


Trick or Treat

by Juliepop



Series: Elliott Witt’s Somewhat Frightening Pan Realization [1]
Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Other, miragehound
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-06 08:20:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21223499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Juliepop/pseuds/Juliepop
Summary: So that whole tripping on mushrooms story? That was a lie.Elliott figures he'll shoot his shot and try talking to Bloodhound at a Halloween party, and the results aren't as disastrous as he thinks they'll be.





	Trick or Treat

**Author's Note:**

> Uh, hey? Totally had to take the opportunity to write about El and pumpkins, and while this started as a general PWP respawn hit us with that Bloodhound costume and now we're here.

Halloween is a holiday that glorified excessive drinking and slutty costumes, which was right up Elliott's alley for the most part except this Halloween he got stuck at a promotional party. Mingling with sponsors was a specialty of his, of course, the ever-charming Mirage never failed to amuse and entertain when put on the spot but he also had every other Apex Legend to compete with. Lucky for him, some of them were straight-up terrible at the whole social interaction thing.

_ Case in point, _ Elliott thought as he dodged the businessman who got shoved off of Bangalore. Elliott whistled long and low as she growled something about keeping his "dirty little paws" to himself, the former sergeant taking the offered drink from Elliott's hand as she stomped by and went to deal with the man and downed it. Her intricate makeup stayed pristine despite the fact Bangalore was drinking like a camel, vodka strong on her breath as the pissed off La Calavera Catrina breezed by in her terrifying glory.

Elliott didn't even hide his grin at the lack of reaction to his glass of water, knowing Anita could not taste a difference as she hefted the little man who thought it right to touch her with one hand. _ Oh well _ , it’s not like it’s _ his _ issue. Shrugging as he carefully maneuvered around the forming group of concerned people, Elliott could see the annoyed face of his publicist already shaking her head as he walked up.

"Hey, I didn't do anything aside from offering her some water. You can't blame me for that one." Elliott murmured, popping an entree into his mouth from a passing waiter and requesting another water as he leaned back against the wall. He'd done his part and more this evening, schmoozing every single potential sponsor and playing cute but dumb for the people currently throwing money at his bank account. It turns out that people ate up the cocky airheaded act, Elliott humming softly as he surveyed the party that seemed like it was not winding down even a little. Bangalore was in another fight, a couple of curses and hand gestures causing the nearby crowd watching to flinch even as Lifeline nearby tried to intervene.

He could easily spot his fellow legends scattered around the room, everyone having dressed up this year apart from Pathfinder, who had announced he went as Octane's legs much to the staff's horror and everyone else's amusement. To give Octane credit, he'd taken it well, wheezing on a laugh and loudly proclaiming Path was spot on about that to put everyone at ease. Even Caustic had dressed up; his costume was horrifying and quite impressive with the clown mask. Still, the mad scientist still gave Elliott the heebie-jeebies. Fucking clowns.

A booming laugh caught the trickster's attention as Gibby slapped his knee from across the room, a smile lifting Elliott's mouth as he noticed the big guy stood with his boyfriend, who dressed up as what Elliott assumed was Frankenstein himself with a lab coat and smart glasses perched on his nose. They were chatting with a small group of people who looked to be enamoured of Gibralitor's larger than life personality, hanging onto his every word and nodding along as he gestured. It was nice to see he was getting attention, the big guy was looking to plan a wedding soon and needed the extra cash. 

Curious about what else he could spot, Elliott found his attention captured by someone propped up against the far wall much in the same was he was.Bloodhound was stood with their arms crossed over their chest at the back of the room, the lights from their hat swaying with every small movement of their head as they remained partially in the shadows. The orange and yellow glow of their mask stood out, casting a hazy light over the rest of their outfit Elliott knew they'd been coerced into wearing. 

_A grinning pumpkin._

Soft laughter escaped as Elliott ran his gaze down their gear, enjoying the little details of the lantern attached to their costume and the book anchored to their side. They looked to be entirely at peace being left alone, apart from the slight fidgeting of their hands every now and again when someone was brave enough to get a little close.

Mirage had an interesting history with Bloodhound, the four-time apex champion wasn't unkind in the slightest, but there was an air about them that would give a reasonable person pause. Though, if asked, Elliott would rather die to Bloodhound's hand over anyone else as the hunter seemed to respect those whom they fell. He had been killed by those hands, though, more than once. They were terrifyingly accurate with their shots, patient enough to lay in wait for the perfect opportunity but also not one to shy from close combat. Bloodhound was lethal.

A shiver worked its way up Elliott's spine as he stared, blaming it on the cold air conditioning as he shifted and adjusted his belt so the chaps he wore sat straight. He felt warm though, hot under the collar even as he fixed his gloves and peeked back up to where Bloodhound stood. They had not moved, but their mask was turned as if they were looking at him. Elliott knew they weren't, the logical part of his brain pointing out they could be looking at the multitude of people and decorations between the pair, but still, he didn't stop his hand. Elliott tipped his hat to Bloodhound, feeling the way his curls brushed against the side of his face as he shot them a warm smile beneath the brim of his cowboy hat.

There was no reaction for a moment, El trying to pretend he wasn't disappointed that they weren't actually looking at him until Bloodhound cocked their head and lifted to fingers in a small salute of sorts. _ Oh. _

Thank god the party theme included dim lighting, Elliott flushing as he hooked his thumb into his belt and tried to save face a little. No other legend in the games had quite the effect Bloodhound did, the mysterious hunter was an enigma of sorts, and Elliott liked to blame his slight infatuation on that. It was the mystery he liked, not knowing who or what lay under the mask. A flimsy excuse, of course, because the more he tried to ignore them, the more apparent their acts of kindness stood out.

Wraith had jokingly said he had a crush once, commenting on Mirage's inability to act normal around the hunter in the dropship, which made the trickster immediately defend himself. A crush? Mirage didn't get crushes, that was so juvenile, and people totally got those on him, not the other way around. Plus, they'd totally won a game together, Bloodhound finishing the game with an impressive fourteen kills and acting humble as they accepted the praise of carrying of the team. Elliott had done okay, with eight kills to his name and a few assists he felt proud to be stood being crowned an apex champion.

In the end, he'd leaned over to crack a joke, something stupid about the crowd reaction when Bloodhound placed a hand on his shoulder and murmured how he'd fought well. Their mask had been close, almost as close as it had been when he'd needed to be revived in the ring, and Elliott felt his face heating as he accepted the praise with a stuttered thank you. He wanted to tell them how well they did, the words jumbling the second he tried to say them, and of course, Wraith had been there for that. It was a brain fart! A small mistake.

That happened a few times. Maybe.

Like now, Elliott trying to subtly peek at Bloodhound, who had gone back to their former lean. Their mask was no longer angled to be facing his direction, but Elliott swore he still felt the weight of their gaze. Did that little salute mean they wanted to chat? No, obviously not. They hated these types of things, always choosing a spot to blend into the background even though it was tough to fit in when you were the famed hunter of the outlands. Yet Elliott found himself moving, mumbling something about needing another drink as he passed his publicist and skirted the room to join Bloodhound. All the while, he tried to talk to himself, justify going over there to say hi.

This was normal! Friends totally did this, and they were friends! Kind of. Sorta. Félagi, a phrase they often used during the games and El had looked up its meaning in a fit of curiosity. It meant comrade, which was kinda like a buddy. Either way, there was no excuse now, Elliott opting to lean a safe distance away as he tilted his head and watched Bloodhound. They turned, the bright grin of the pumpkin mask casting an orange glow over Elliott's face as he cleared his throat a little. 

_ Be chill. _

"Uh, hey! C-C-cool party, huh?" Or not chill. His stutter made Elliott bite his tongue as he waited for their response, mentally berating himself for stumbling over the simplest of phrases. Bloodhound tilted their head, the swaying of their lights kinda cute in a way— or yenno, not cute. It was hard to think being this close, Elliott choosing to scuff his boots against the ground as they rubbed one of their wrists for a moment.

"The others seem to enjoy it." Bloodhound murmured, the accented words carrying over the sound of raucous laughter and the buzz of noise caused by the chattering going on around them. In this corner, it was slightly muffled, a nice place to stand if you were feeling overwhelmed or something. Elliott felt overwhelmed as he nodded, licking his lips as they did not turn from him. "You are enjoying yourself?"

"Me? Uh, yeah! I mean, it's kind of a drag to have to spend our whole night here, but what can you do? I woulda worked anyway, so I guess it's nice to have this day off. Lots of talking, though, which I can totally do, but it's really boring conversations." Elliott was rambling, unable to stop as he wished he'd grabbed that water before walking over. At least to give himself something to do, or else he was going to end up embarrassing himself "Not this one though! This conversation I'm totally into, haha. How about you though, I noticed you're kinda sitting out."

"I do not take enjoyment from these sorts of events."

"Yeah? I get it; some people aren't about that spotlight thing. I mean, I am if you couldn't tell." The latter comment got him what he assumed was a huff of amusement, Bloodhound's shoulder now leaning against the wall as they faced him fully, and something in Elliott's stomach twisted as he grinned. "Hey, I happen to like the attention sometimes! Always nice to hear when I did well, or about how eq-equs-exqui— pretty I am."

"Oh?" They prompted, the soft word enough to make his grin widen as Elliott switched his lazy lean into more of a posed position. He was facing them fully now, raising a hand to push his cowboy hat up a little so they could see his face.

"Well, I do reckon that most folks around these parts would agree. Are you one of them? Because I sure think you're gourd-geous." The pun was delivered with a bright grin, Elliott proud of the wordplay and how he didn't stumble over the punchline as they seemed to pause for a moment before he heard the unmistakable sound of surprised laughter.

Bloodhound lifted their arm to cover where their mouth must have been, merely resting a gloved hand against the bright pumpkin grin, and Elliott couldn't help but give a pleased little laugh in return as he desperately tried to file away that sound. Holy shit, he'd gotten them to laugh! A proud smile spread over his face, his cheeks feeling hot as Elliott took a small step closer, feeling a little emboldened by the positive response. "Well, guess you could say I'm the real pun king. Get it?"

Bloodhound to their credit answered rather quickly, the faintest edge of a smile tinging their words as they cocked their head, and Elliott nearly bit through his tongue at the soft words. "I would imagine you must be."

Yup, he was very screwed as the idea of Bloodhound smiling at him under the mask had the tips of his ears flushing. For all the big game talk he liked to fall back on, Elliott Witt wasn't the smoothest of operators as he laughed and ran fingers over his beard to hide the embarrassed smile. 

Trying to think of a Witt-y response, Elliott made the mistake of lifting his gaze back up and noticing how relaxed they looked, focusing their attention on him. They didn't even fidget as they waited for him to speak, the intensity of just being listened to making Elliott flustered to the point he blurted out the first thing on his mind. "Haaah, so uh. You wanna m-m-maybe—"

"Here they are! Bloodhound, my name is.." Elliott tuned out the rest as a group of four investors suddenly spoke up from beside them, El flinching in surprise as he glanced over and was shocked he hadn't noticed how close other people had gotten. It was if the small bubble they'd built popped, Bloodhound straightening up from their lean and addressing the group with a completely different tone as they turned away. There was a tense moment as they ignored the outstretched hands, instead offering a polite nod in return, and Elliott watched as they began to adjust their gloves with some sharp movements.

_They're uncomfortable_ his brain helpfully supplied as he watched the way the hunter reverted to the very formal way they spoke to the media. Something in his chest swelled as Elliott realized that meant when they'd been talking with him, Bloodhound had been at ease, the almost unguarded way they'd interacted with him making his throat feel a little tight. They liked him, at least enough to feel a little more safe to be themselves.

The conversation seemed like it was going to be a long one, Elliott debating making himself scarce since it was clear the four men were only interested in pelting the very patient Bloodhound with questions, but something kept him rooted to the spot. He wanted to be there, even in silent support, as he caught them glance over and offered an encouraging smile and wink. He heard a soft huff, his smile growing as they turned back to answer a question, but it was enough to make Elliott stay right where he was.

Elliott intended to ask them out, the thought surprisingly clear in his head as he watched them work. "Self-proclaimed straight man Mirage is hopelessly enamoured of well-known non-binary legend," he could read the headlines now. It should have terrified him more, gave his tremulous thoughts pause, but there was something about the way they shifted and stole another look at him that made everything quiet again. He liked them because of how they acted, not for how they looked and that was something completely brand new. So what if he wasn't entirely sure of what they had going on under all those layers, a dinner date wouldn't matter. Right? Right??

"Now, onto the matter of public appearances for the brand! We would love to do some promotional shoots with you, with your enormous fanbase I think your image would be suited to being the face of our company!" The enthused words caught Elliott's attention before he could bring himself into a further freakout, noticing the tense line of Bloodhound's back as they politely declined.

"I apologize, no. _Takk fyrir_ for your kind offer." They spoke so formally it kind of hurt to listen to as Elliott furrowed his brows, noticing the man was trying to be more insistent, but Bloodhound remained firm. Their fingers were twisting together, bunching and worrying the fabric of their gloves in a way that made Elliott want to barrel in the conversation just to tell the group to fuck off. Obviously, they didn't want to get shoved into the spotlight; Bloodhound barely tolerated being photographed for the games, let alone— oh.

He was kind of stupid.

Their conversation was coming to an end; the men finished with cornering Bloodhound and throwing questions at them as they exchanged goodbyes and made promises to get in contact with their team. As soon as the four turned around Elliott noticed the slight release of tension as the focus was pulled away from them, Bloodhound rubbing a hand along their sleeve for a moment as they both watched the group move further and further away. It was quiet again, Elliott scrubbing his sweaty palms against his chaps as he glanced over at Bloodhound who was stood there just a few feet away. He got interrupted attempting to ask them out, and now he didn't know if he even should.

He didn't want them to feel uncomfortable, forced into another social interaction just seemed kinda cruel at this point, but Elliott wanted to keep talking to them. Spend time with them, and only them. Alone.

"The dude on the far left had something green stuck in his teeth; it was kinda gross." He mumbles, catching the sharp jerk of their as Bloodhound directed their attention back on him, and Elliott grins as they let out a soft peal of laughter. Their shoulders shook slightly, the releasing of tension in the air letting Elliott know this was fine as he hooked a thumb in his belt and watched Bloodhound face him once more. "Hey, you wanna get outta here? I bet we could sneak off."

The words are out before he can take them back, hanging in the air between the pair as Bloodhound doesn't even hesitate to answer with a quick sigh of "yes." Elliott felt his eyes widen at how quickly they agreed, wondering if he was doomed to a fate of being flustered in their presence as he reddens and needs to clear his suddenly dry throat a few times. His words had been more of a playful proposal, intent to follow them up with an offer to do something, but Bloodhound said yes before he could say anything else and soften the blow. 

_Did that mean...?_

“Uh, my apartment is pretty close if you wanna go.” Were these words actually leaving his mouth, and did Bloodhound really agree to go home with him? They dipped their head down a little, the movement causing Elliott to hold his breath as he felt like he was being studied in turn. Guess it was only fair, he had spent a very large part of his night staring at them as Bloodhound seemed to come to a conclusion and nodded.

“How fortunate,” they breathed, and yeah okay. That was a definite yes, Elliott nodding to himself a little as he turned his head to see if there was anyone around who were watching the pair. His publicist was busy, her back turned to them as she chatted with some of his sponsors and there was this sense of teenage rebellion as Elliott pinched the edge of Bloodhound's sleeve to get them to follow him. Luckily they caught on quickly, silently moving behind him as El tried to make to be subtle about sneaking away. Their escape was a few feet away when she turned, Mirage freezing for a second as her eyes caught on the sight of a very guilty looking cowboy edging toward the double doors leading out. Debating his choice for a second, Elliott turned to Bloodhound with one word.

_“Run!”_

Elliott bolted the last few steps and got one of the doors open, quickening his steps as he walked down the hall and passed the elevator to take the stairs as Bloodhound paused enough to offer his publicist an apologetic shrug. Running around for hours trying to fight for his life did wonders for his cardio, hearing the sound of Bloodhound following made a laugh bubble out as Elliott ran down a few flights. The laughter winded him more than the stairs did, feeling the thrill of their actions sing through his veins much in the same way it did competing as they made it to the main floor and Elliott gently tugged at their sleeve once more to get them to take a sharp turn away from the front. No need to wade through the press, it was bad enough two of the legends were sneaking away early, they didn’t need to be seen doing it.

“Back door,” Elliott calls back, grinning a little as he fiddles with the tech attached to his wrist and tries to move them along without getting spotted. Luckily they were asked to come out dressed for the ring, while they said no weapons, the planners did say they wouldn't mind if they wished to show off a little and Elliott was fortunate enough to take that offer seriously. His suit was charged, unsurprising really since he’d hardly used it the whole night, sending out a few decoys to entertain at the start when the demand to talk to him was high.

The hotel where the party was being held thankfully had more than a few back exits, Elliott leading Bloodhound to the one he was told to use and noticing it was very quiet as they paused a little breathless by the door. The place they’d picked was apparently under some type of renovation with plastic sheeting covering fresh wooden planks and drywall, there wasn’t even lights installed this far back, the soft glow of Bloodhound’s mask providing most of the illumination as Elliott stopped to offer them a bright grin. Almost home free, the thought causing his pulse to pick a little as he realized exactly what that could entail. 

“Thank you,” Bloodhound said suddenly, the sound of their voice not helping with the itch under his skin as Elliott nodded and tried to come up with an appropriate response. It wasn’t necessary though, Bloodhound reaching out to pluck lightly at the red patterned bandana around his neck and Elliott inhaled sharply at the action. They were using that same tone again, the faintest edge of breathlessness added in making it suddenly feel very stuffy in the small space they shared.

“You’re so welcome,” Elliott managed to get out, his hands settling on their waist and for a second he expected them to push him away. Bloodhound did not, they allowed his touch and the soft tug that pulled them close enough for the brim of his hat to brush against their mask. For a second Elliott thought about how their proximity to him in their last match together had made him choke on his words, Wraith making a joke about something catching his tongue and how he’d tried so hard to brush it off and prove himself. He wasn’t choking now, tightening his grip a little and glancing at the smiling mask for a charged moment. “You coming home with me?”

“If you’d like me to.”

“I really would.”

**Author's Note:**

> There is, of course, a second part that will be posted...at some point. It’s uh, that pwp I mentioned so if that’s not your thing I would skip out. 
> 
> Got questions? Come yell at me on tumblr [here](https://juliepop.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Also please just come talk to me about Miragehound or something, I have a lot of feelings.


End file.
